


Hell Hath No Fury

by Birdschach



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdschach/pseuds/Birdschach
Summary: "Oh, no, Laslow. I can't trust you, can I? If I untie you, you might take matters into your own hands, and then what's the point of all of this?" Camilla said, a mischievous grin spreading over her face. "No, I want you to watch. I want you to want me so very badly, more than you've ever wanted anything. And during that time, I want you to know I'm completely out of your reach. And not only me, but your own pleasure as well. I need you to beg me, and to swear to me that I'm the only woman for you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I just really hate how many supports with Laslow end with him continuing to flirt with other women, and I really can't see Camilla tolerating that. So, here's this. I hope you enjoy!

Laslow woke, slowly, clinging to sleep, wishing desperately to sleep for just a few minutes longer. He felt a yawn coming in his half-awake state, and lifted his arm to stifle it. But it would not move. "Wha..?" he murmured, suddenly fighting for consciousness. As his eyes opened, and his senses returned, he found he was not in his bed nor his bedroom. Instead, he was in a stone room that he recognized immediately as a dungeon. The room was empty, save for one chair positioned across from him. He looked down, seeing that his arms and legs were bound tightly to a chair. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from somewhere behind him.

"Ah, finally awake, darling?" the voice of his wife called out, playful, but with an edge sharp enough to cut through Laslow's drowsiness. It was a unique combination, something only Camilla could manage. "You've kept me waiting for so very long."

"Hey, now, what's going on here? What have you gotten me all tied up for?" Laslow asked, still trying to remember what had happened the night before.

"Well, I wanted to spend some time with my lovely husband," Camilla explained, her heeled boots ringing out on the stone floor as she stepped into view. She was wearing her full battle dress, though that outfit had been enough to steal Laslow's heart in the first place. It accentuated the princess' physique magnificently, as Camilla wielded her sexuality as well as any weapon, a trick she had picked up on as she watched the desperate power struggles of the women of Garon's court. "He left me waiting all night...and when he finally stumbled home, he simply removed his shirt and crawled into bed, falling into a deep sleep. I thought I should tie him up, lest he run off and leave me alone again."

The pout that followed that explanation could have driven any man mad, but Laslow was particularly susceptible. "My apologies, milady, I had no intention of staying out that late, but the night simply wouldn't let me go."

"And what, may I ask, were you doing?" she asked, leaning in close, and placing a fingertip on the center of Laslow's still bare chest.

"Ah...I don't know if you would...like the answer, milady," Laslow admitted, looking away. Of course, he had been in town, flirting with the local women. It was a habit more than anything else, his true feelings were for Camilla, and he had truly tried to cut back. But sometimes, he found himself in town anyway, trying his hand at wooing any girl that struck his fancy. And, with Laslow, any girl was deserving his fancy.

"I assumed as much..." Camilla said, her pout deepening. She trailed her finger down slowly, her nail just barely scratching her husband. "And what did I tell you would come of that?"

"Something about rotting in a dungeon and...what was it, 'cruel new tortures'?" Laslow said, trying to remain focused. The sight of Camilla leaning over him like that, running her finger down his chest, he was quickly coming face to face with a new problem. "But! I thought you were just teasing, you're still the only woman for me!"

"My dear, sweet, Laslow. You should have learned by now; I never tease," Camilla said, standing straight once more. She couldn't help but notice the bulge in his pants, and smiled at her efforts. "But even if I believe you, I sure was lonely last night, while my husband was off cavorting with other women. If I'm the only woman in his heart, why would he leave me alone like that? Is it possible you prefer the women you simply cannot have?"

"I...I don't know, Camilla. It's...more of a habit than anything else. Just something I've always done, it doesn't-" he tried to explain, but Camilla placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"If that's what you want, who am I to complain?" Camilla said, playfulness creeping into her tone once more. And at that tone, Laslow felt a cold dread. He knew the princess of Nohr could be quite cruel when the situation called for it, and he could vaguely remember the flash of rage on her face as he stumbled home last night and went straight to bed.

"Milady! I apologize, I promise, it won't happen again. I love you deeply, and you're the only one for me!" Laslow assured, hoping Camilla would free him and just let him make up for everything.

"Now, Laslow, we both know that if I do that, you'll just be loyal for a few days before slipping back into your habit. No, I have to break you of this before it gets out of hand," Camilla said, reaching behind her back. He wondered what sort of tool or weapon she would pull out, and began bracing himself for the worst. Instead, he watched in soundless curiosity as she removed the strap across her shoulder, and loosened the ties that held the armor covering her midsection. Without a word, she pulled the armor off, leaving the creamy skin of her midsection bare. It fell to the ground with a clatter, but Laslow could not bring himself to so much as glance at it. He took in the sight of his wife, greedily. He felt like an idiot for going out, how could he have done such a thing when she waited for him at home?

That sentiment only grew as Camilla continued stripping off her armor, removing her cloak, her gauntlets, and her greaves, before she stood in nothing but her black brassiere and panties. Laslow was, by now, lost completely in his desire for her. So far, he wondered what about this was a punishment? If she planned to simply tie him up and have her way with him...well, that would practically rate as a reward for him. But he was underestimating his wife, not contemplating what her method of "torture" would entail.

Camilla, however, was confident. She knew that what she had in mind would drive Laslow absolutely mad, while also making him regret gallivanting around with other women.

"I was just so very lonely without you, Laslow...I could hardly stand it," Camilla teased, only slightly exaggerating. "Would you like to see what I had to do while I waited for you to come back?"

"Well, with you looking like that, I'd be happy to see anything," Laslow joked, hoping to relieve some tension, and perhaps change Camilla's mind.

"Oh, I'm quite sure you'll like what you see, dear. But since you seem so keen on wanting to enjoy what you can't have...well, all you'll get to do is watch," Camilla said, turning towards the other chair. She seated herself, and Laslow started to grasp her plan. And as Camilla leaned back, spreading her legs, he did not need to wonder any longer. Slowly, she slipped a hand down, beneath her panties, and began touching herself. All the while, she gazed directly at him, biting her lip as she felt her arousal take hold. "I think that ought to be punishment enough."

Laslow had already been hard, even before Camilla started this, but now it was nearly unbearable. His erection strained against his pants, as if desperate to escape its confines. But Laslow knew his wife, and if she had truly set her mind on this, he would be getting no help from her. "Hey, come now, Camilla. Putting on a show like this really isn't a punishment, is it? You might as well untie me, and I'll gladly watch..."

"Oh, no, Laslow. I can't trust you, can I? If I untie you, you might take matters into your own hands, and then what's the point of all of this?" Camilla said, a mischievous grin spreading over her face. "No, I want you to watch. I want you to want me so very badly, more than you've ever wanted anything. And during that time, I want you to know I'm completely out of your reach. And not only me, but your own pleasure as well. I need you to beg me, and to swear to me that I'm the only woman for you."

"I'll swear that a thousand times over, milady! You are the only woman for me, please, just untie me," Laslow began, but Camilla ignored him. She could tell he was insincere, simply trying to get out of his bonds before he faced any real punishment. But she had no intention of allowing that. It had truly wounded her, that her husband would neglect her for the sake of other women. Habit or no, it had to stop. 

Tossing her hair, Camilla continued pleasuring herself. Laslow could only watch her hand work beneath her undergarments, pulsing in and out as she fingered herself. Could only listen in awe as she moaned, occasionally murmuring his name. Slowly, she raised her other hand to her back, and unclasped her brassiere, letting it fall to the ground ceremoniously. Laslow couldn't help but notice that her nipples were erect, inviting, practically begging for the touch of his fingers or his mouth, but all he could do was struggle ineffectually against his bonds. Instead, Camilla took one breast in her own hand, and slowly worked her fingers to her nipple, teasing around it in slow circles before gripping it between two fingers. Her moans sped up, as she drove herself harder and harder.

She couldn't deny that she loved the sight of Laslow, straining against his bonds, so obviously and pathetically aroused. She knew he had to want her badly, had to be aching from how hard he was, and of course she was right. The need he felt for her touch, for any contact from her at all, threatened to consume him, to overpower him. But she made no move to rise, only focusing on her own needs, her own pleasure. But Gods, was she beautiful. The way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, onto the tops of her breasts, the way sweat beaded on her skin even in this cool room as her arousal heated her up...it was unbearable! He needed her, and he needed her badly.

That need only grew as the princess sped up, and began rocking her hips in time with her motions. Her free breast bounced slightly with each movement, falling into rhythm with the rest of her, speeding up, speeding up, until finally she was right at the edge. "Laslow!" she cried out with finality, as she reached her climax, and Laslow felt himself twitching with desire. She was right there, and Gods did he need her, but she was completely and totally out of his reach. He could only watch as she sat opposite him, panting, still lazily toying with herself.

"P-please...Camilla please...I need you so badly it hurts..." Laslow began, truly begging in earnest.

"Do you promise?" she asked, her voice still husky with her desire and with her pleasure.

"Yes! Yes, I promise, I'll never need another woman besides you. If I want to flirt I'll seek you out, and flirt with you instead!" he promised, willing to agree to anything if it just stopped this damn aching need.

"Well, okay, but this really is your last chance, Laslow dear. If you disappoint me again, the punishment will have to be much more severe..." she said, rising from her seat and sauntering towards him. Even her walk was sexually charged, and Laslow felt himself twitching once more, the ache even stronger than before.

"I...please, I beg you...just touch me," he managed, hardly able to think at all, let alone think straight.

"You want me to untie you?" she asked, as she bent over him, her body filling his field of view, but she made no move to touch him just yet.

Frantically, he shook his head, "Don't care, as long as...as long as you touch me," he stammered, his desperate need for pleasure overpowering anything else.

Finally, she complied, lazily gripping his cock through his trousers. "Like this?" she asked, teasing while looking him dead in the eyes. By this point, he could only whimper assent and nod frantically. The princess moved her hand, stroking his length slowly, agonizingly slowly, one time, then twice. And with that, he was there. 

"Ah, C-Camilla!" he cried out, practically shouting as he finally received the release he had needed so damn badly. He had been on the edge for so very long, there wasn't a single part of him even remotely concerned about the seed spilling into his pants, the dark patch it left behind, or the fact that he would have to walk back to their quarters with Camilla, everyone who spotted them able to guess roughly what had happened. There was only his relief, only the pleasure he felt at Camilla's hand. "Th-thank you..." he managed, once he finally caught his breath.

"Awh, my poor sweet husband," Camilla said, pulling him into an embrace. "I know that was rough for you, but now everything will be so much better, I promise." With surprisingly practiced movements, Camilla had him untied, but it took him a moment before he felt comfortable standing.

"Ah, well, I suppose I did kind of deserve that," Laslow admitted, once he was back on his feet. "Just remind me not to get on your bad side again."

"Oh?" she asked, humorlessly, "Are you afraid you'll need a reminder?"

"No, milady. I don't believe I'll ever need another reminder," he said, remembering how torturous his need had gotten. He had faced horrifying things in his past, but he would have to rate that painful need somewhere near the top. It seemed there was truth to the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," especially when it came to Camilla.


End file.
